


If Only For You

by Galtori



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 04:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17053541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galtori/pseuds/Galtori
Summary: John is framed, and Sherlock goes into protection mode.





	If Only For You

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr prompt of "tongue-tied" and "with you". Unbeta'd, very old, short, and part of me migrating all of my fic from Tumblr to AO3.

“Look, we’re just saying that the evidence,” Lestrade tried to say, but Sherlock cut him off.

“Evidence that was clearly planted if Anderson were doing his damn job!” Sherlock shouted over the inspector.

“By the law, I have to take John in as a suspect. And trying to keep him out will only make me have to put you with him.”

“You have to be joking Lestrade. John has no motive. They’re complete strangers, and in the vast majority of violent crimes, the victim and killer know each other. Not to mention the killer has had a massive break from reality, given that he literally painted the walls with the victim’s blood.”

“Well he shags you, so he must be barking,” Donovan chipped in, and Sherlock’s vision turned red.

“No. No, no no.” John inserted himself in the conflict, placing both hands on the detective’s chest and pushing him away from Donovan. “You are not going to do that. The last thing you need is a reason for them to throw you in too.”

“How could anyone think you’d done it, John?!” Sherlock shouted, his rage finally leaking through. “Anyone who knows you knows that you could never do this. You’re a doctor. When you were in the army, you risked life and limb to save lives in the middle of a war zone, regardless of what side they were on. Don’t give me that look, I read your file. When you were shot trying to protect your unit, they finally shipped you home against your will. You wanted to stay out there. You wanted to save those lives.

“When you settled into your life here at Baker Street, you split your time between here and the clinic. So when you aren’t spending your time helping people at the clinic, you’re chasing me down alleyways, telling me how victims died, and generally saving someone’s life, whether it be mine or a client’s. You and I both remember the Bloody Guardsman. He would have bled to death while I analyzed the crime scene. 

“So to think you would take a life so callously is beyond even my comprehension. I love you and I know you, John Watson. And you are no killer. Someone is framing you, and that scares me half to death.” Silence reigned at Baker Street when Sherlock finished. Even Anderson and Donovan were shocked into silence. That Sherlock would bear his heart so fully and willingly touched John deeply, and he would have responded if it weren’t for the lump in his throat.

“Then go and clear my name,” John finally managed. There was nothing either of them could do to stop Lestrade and his team for now. And Sherlock would hunt the truth out. He knew something was off, and he would not stop until he found the evidence that proved it.

“No John. I need to be with you.” Sherlock stepped close to John, almost crowding him. But John knew it to be a protective stance for Sherlock. They were both scared that someone new was targeting John, and the only way Sherlock knew how to deal with was to sniff it out with the target beside him.

“You said that this person is absolutely mad, that they’d kill again. Catch them before they kill again, Sherlock. You’re on my side, and that’s what matters right now.” John leaned in and kissed his boyfriend before he turned to face Lestrade, putting both hands out for the inspector to handcuff.

“Those aren’t necessary right now. But I will need to put them on when we get to the interrogation room at Scotland Yard.” John nodded grimly, and Sherlock walked with the pair to Lestrade’s car, whispering advice into John’s ear the entire time. Before John stepped into the car, he grabbed the detective’s wrist and coat collar, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Go catch me a killer, Sherlock Holmes.” John ordered, his terse military tone hopefully setting the detective onto a swift path.

“If only to set you free,” Sherlock whispered back


End file.
